This summer has been psycho busy. What was supposed to be a peaceful summer turned into freelance-work hell (pardon my explicit, though accurate term), some add-on (though lovely) trips and 2-weeks with a broken air conditioner (Louisiana is spelled j-u-n-g-l-e).
We just got back from a weeklong trip to the beach, we have a new air conditioner and I've made big progress on most of my freelance projects. So in an attempt to foster the peace, my husband took me to one of my favorite out-of-the-way places — Nottoway Plantation — for a date the other night.
The first time my husband took me there, I sort of thought we weren't ever coming back . . . it's that in the middle of nowhere. But I know why they built there in the 1850s, it's serene and beautiful on the banks of the Mississippi. And The Mansion Restaurant, with over-sized windows overlooking lawns with sweeping Oaks, has delicious food.
As with all restaurants that I love, their menu features local Louisiana foods. And as the waiter went through their daily specials he said they had a duck special. My husband loves duck. Duck with Swiss chard and wild rice in a fig and raspberry reduction . . . totally what my husband would love. And then the waiter said it.
"And it's really delicious. It's Mallard."
I'm not sure what I thought my husband was eating when he ate duck . . . but I never envisioned it was one of the cute, green-headed kinds. I suddenly had visions of a limp, iridescent green head lying on his plate. The waiter actually laughed out loud at my wide-eyed stare. There's a reason I'm mostly a vegetarian.
Anyway, I usually get the Louisiana strawberry salad, but this time I tried and loved their house salad with almond brittle and Louisiana cane vinaigrette. And even with the duck trauma, I took a vegetarian break and had an amazing chicken breast over mini-cubed potatoes tied together with a savory, full-bodied sauce. I guess chickens don't make me feel as bad because they're ugly?! But in the end, both the chicken and the duck looked remarkably similar . . . and the fig and raspberry sauce on the chard was divine.
And date night is always a dessert night. I'm funny about sugar, I'll only eat it if it's made with really good ingredients and worth it. And the bourbon pecan pie was worth it. . . which reminded me why I get pecan pie in the South and not in New York City (like I did for Thanksgiving last year and couldn't even finish one bite).
And for a minute, just before the school crazy begins, the summer was peaceful and I was on a hot date.